Please Use Other Door

The line at Chainlink Coffee was out the door, as usual. With a coffee shop on almost every block, it seemed crazy that any of them would ever get so busy. But Chainlink was always hopping. The marketing was genius. They'd leaned into the perpetual construction in the area with both their name and motif – “Building you the perfect cup of coffee” was their catchphrase. But the coffee was also really that good. I could walk right up to the counter and get a perfectly decent cup down the street at the Perk and Pie. But I couldn't go back to perfectly decent now that I'd had mind-altering, life-changing, heaven in a cup. And that's why I waited in the insanely long line with all of the other addicted idiots. Or I usually did.

On this particular Saturday I didn't feel like waiting in line. And I technically didn't have to. My friend Jess had gotten there super early to secure both coffee AND a table. So I really just had to get inside. The problem? You try explaining to a bunch of caffeine-craving zombies that you're not cutting, but just going to meet a friend. One guy actually came at me with his gangly elbows when I tried to slide through. I could have taken him down, but I'd never be allowed back at Chainlink. Whoever said it was taboo for a man to shove a woman had not taken into account the siren song of amazing coffee. Drugs, man. They make people do weird stuff.

I slid around to the alley at the side of the building. There had to be an employee entrance or something that I could sneak through. There was indeed a glass door with a pull handle. Printed on the door in red stencil were the instructions Please Use Other Door with an arrow pointing back toward the main entrance. Just to see what would happen, I pulled the handle. What happened was nothing, except me pulling on what was clearly a locked door.

“Can't you read the sign?”

I jerked back and my leg clanged into a dumpster. I hadn't seen anyone there. I looked to where I thought the low, bossy voice was coming from.

“Uh...hello?” I squeaked at the amorphous form tucked behind dumpsters and trash cans.

“You may or may not be able to read, but you can speak. Okay.” A bulky man with thinning brown hair emerged from shapeless shadow and took a step toward me. He wore a navy blue uniform, like the one a janitor would wear. Or a mechanic. His stomach strained the buttons of his shirt and rested on the belt of his pants.

“I can read. I just thought...my friend already got coffee and a table and I just...I didn't want to wait in line only to not even need coffee, you know?” The man wasn't overtly threatening, but I still felt uneasy. I supposed most women felt uneasy when they found themselves alone in alleys with large men. Still, something stopped me from running outright.

He didn't smile, but something in his eyes hinted at amusement. “So, why don't you explain that to the other people in the line, and have them let you through?”

“Have you ever tried reasoning with people before they've had their coffee?”

At this, he chuckled. “Good point.” He pulled a set of keys that I hadn't noticed before from his belt. “So you really want to get through this door, eh?”

“Yes, I do. I have to meet my friend. Do you work here?”

He shrugged. “I've got keys to the door, don't I?”

I shrugged back.

“Okay, I'll open the door for you. But I have to tell you I'm not sure it goes where you think it goes.”

I was getting antsy. Jess had been waiting for well over half an hour. I was sure I could fumble my way out of whatever kitchen or storeroom I was being let into.

“Yeah, fine. I'll figure it out.”

He looked at me unwaveringly. His eyes were intense, but again there was a glint of amusement on his flushed face. He spoke slowly, as if reading the instructions off the back of a package. “You'll figure it out.” Definitely amusement.

He took a deep sip of air and moved toward the door, keys shimmering. He paused before he put the key in the lock and turned toward me once again. “You sure about this? There's a reason this door is locked.”

My God, this guy. He was acting like I was about to stumble across a dead body or a prostitution ring. I had heard about shady back rooms, but I really doubted Chainlink was that kind of place.

I nodded, impatient. “It's a coffee shop. I'm pretty sure I can handle it.”

He shook his head slightly, put the key in the door, and swung it open. Before I could see what was inside, he grabbed the sleeve of my sweatshirt and shoved me through. There wasn't a kitchen or a break room or even a dead body. There was...nothing. As I hurtled into complete blackness, a faint voice echoed behind me.

“Good luck, I warned you!” The tone was ominous and yet also...chipper. Huh.

I don't know how long I fell. I must have passed out at some point, because when I came to I was lying flat on my back in what felt like dirt. I slowly lifted myself into a sitting position. Okay, I wasn't dizzy. I brushed the dirt off my jeans. Dirt. Why was I in dirt?

I looked up and my breath caught. It was...beautiful. I was encircled by the largest trees I'd ever seen, ruddy trunks reaching up into blue sky until they disappeared completely into lofty canopies. I pushed my hands into the soft ground and braced myself to stand. Despite what must have been a long fall, I didn't feel any bruises or aches. In fact, I felt great. My body seemed stronger and more energized than I had ever remembered it feeling.

I stared at the dabs of sky visible through the canopy, my eyes drawn to the movement of tiny objects far above me. I squinted, recognizing the objects as small birds flitting from branch to branch at what must have been hundreds of feet above the ground. An assortment of chirps echoed around me. A junco landed near my feet and started kicking around in the dirt, seemingly oblivious to my presence.

In the next moment, I realized I was walking. I wandered slightly uphill, then more directly up a steep slope. I huffed slightly at the incline, but my legs felt strong and and my body sure. Eventually the ground ceased and I was faced with open air. I had come to an overlook. I sidled carefully toward the edge. In front of me was a naturescape of green and granite, rock outcrops jutting out of dense blankets of forest. Above and below, I could see nothing but unspoiled expanse.

“Spectacular, isn't it?”

I sprang forward at the sound of the voice behind me, nearly sending myself careening into the valley below. Indeed, the scrabble of pebbles plunking down into the canyon provided a warning of what would happen if I got any closer to the edge. I whirled around.

“What the...”

My words evaporated as I beheld the being in front of me. An older woman, gray hair cascading past her shoulders, stood only feet away. I hadn't heard her approach. She wore what looked like pieces of burlap, cinched into a faded longsleeve top and pants. On her feet were makeshift mocassins that looked to be made of some kind of cured bark.

She stared out at the expanse. “You know, I never get sick of that view. You'll have plenty of time to take it in later, though. Come with me.” She motioned me away from the cliff and began to walk back toward the grove of towering trees.

I didn't move. “Wait...who are you? Where am I? Why would I follow you anywhere?”

She turned and smiled. Her face was not unkind. “Follow me and you'll have your answers.”

Short of being some kind of witch, she didn't seem like she could do me any harm. In fact, there was an air of familiarity about her that made me think I might have seen her before. And if she were a witch, I reasoned, she'd cause me harm whether I followed her or not. She led me into the forest and continued on. She walked surprisingly quickly and I trotted to catch up.

“Okay, I'm following you. Can you please tell me what's going on? I feel like I fell out of the sky or something and now I'm here, and I need to know where I am and how to get home and...”

She whirled around so quickly that we almost clunked heads, as I was still scuttling at her heels like a nervous toddler.

She grabbed my hands in hers, then pulled me down into the soft duff and sat. “Be still, and listen carefully. I don't know how much time I have so please do not interrupt. I don't know where we are. All I know is that I have been here for many years and that you have come to take my place.”

I moved to open my mouth and she held up a hand briefly before placing it back on top of mine.

“I remember little from the time when I came here but I do remember the fear, the weight of uncertainty. Just know that all that you need is here, and this is a safe place. Your life will be difficult at times, but ultimately happy.”

I couldn't bear it. I wrenched my hands away from hers. “Are you a witch? A fortuneteller? How do you know what my life will be?”

She sat calmly and waited for my eyes to meet hers. I begrudgingly looked up, despite the discomfort. When she spoke again, she did so softly.

“Do I look familiar to you?” Her tone was even, but warm.

“Yes, have we met before?”

“You can say that.”

Frustration rose again. “Why are you speaking in riddles? Just tell me the truth!”

“Look at me. You already know the truth. Well, part of it anyway.”

And so I looked, really looked. And then my breath caught and I turned away. The eyes, the shape of her face, it couldn't be...“No!”

Her rough hands gently pulled my face back to look at hers. “Yes. I didn't know then how it was possible and I don't know now. But it is true. I know all of these things because I was...am...you. I came here as you did many years ago. And now, with your arrival, it is time for me to go. We cannot both exist on the same plane.”

“But...” I couldn't think of a coherent question but managed to sputter out, “Why?!”

“I don't know why. But all of my needs have been provided for. Come, let me show you.”

I followed her to a clearing, in the center of which stood a small cabin. She led me inside to a single room, lit by sunlight streaming through two small windows on either side. There was a fireplace on the back wall. Pots and pans hung from hooks above the mantle. She motioned to a wooden chair next to a large table that also seemed to have been made from a large slab of wood. I sat. She pulled two mugs from the far edge of the table, placed a sachet of herbs into each, and then poured water from a well-worn kettle.

“Fir and mint. Refreshing. Drink. We don't have much time.”

I took a sip. The tea, although hot, was indeed refreshing. I still had so many questions and was probably in shock. I looked at the old ceramic mug in my shaking hand. Definitely in shock.

“Now, fir needles and mint leaves are easy to come by. And there is a small garden in the back with herbs and lettuce and some other things. Everything is labeled. There are certain things here that you must do yourself – tend the garden, gather water from the stream, do the wash, gather firewood – but the caretakers also provide. I don't know who or what they are, and I have never met them, but that is how I refer to them. I have been here many years and still have my own unanswered questions. Which apparently will never be answered.” She took a sip of her own tea and smiled. There was a hint of something – sadness maybe, or regret – in the wrinkles at the edge of her lips.

“There are stores of dried beans that I have been eating from for years. They never seem to run out. The fabric for these clothes was here, although I did the cinching myself. And I made the shoes. What you are wearing will do for a while though. That will all come later. And this,” she gestured with both hands at the room around us, “this lovely home was here as well. It's a little drafty in the winter but solid, and the roof has never leaked.”

I didn't know which questions to ask in which order. I just blurted whatever came to mind. “Are you alone here?”

“That depends on what you mean by alone.” She sat down with a soft sigh in a matching chair across from me. “There are no other humans here. But I have spent many hours with deer, foxes, bears, birds, and trees. They are all wonderful listeners. Some are even good conversationalists, once you learn their language. So no, I am not alone. But the conversations are certainly different. It can be lonely at first, but that will change over time.”

“What am I supposed to do here? Don't you get bored?”

She startled me by letting out a brief chortle. Is that how I'm going to laugh someday? “Bored? Even with what the caretakers provide, the acts of living and tending to your needs will be plenty to keep you from getting bored. You will be surprised. As for what you're supposed to do....you're supposed to just live. That's it. Be here and be happy.”

“That's it? I'm going to be stuck here by myself until another version of me comes to replace me? Is that it?”

“That's it.”

“What about my family? What about my friends?”

“You exist here now. Nobody there knows you anymore. This is your new reality.”

“Why? For what purpose?”

She shrugged. “What purpose does anything serve really?”

“So apparently at some point I become a philosopher?” I couldn't hold in my sarcasm.

She smiled. “You've got the time. And,” she gestured to several large shelves along the walls, “there are books here about everything. Including philosophy.” She took another sip of her tea.

“Is there any other way? Any way to go back?” I had to ask the question, even as I already knew the answer.

She shook her head. “That door only works one way, I'm afraid.”

I swiveled in my chair toward one of the small windows, following the frenetic movements of a chickadee as it darted in and out of a nearby gooseberry bush.

Her voice was soft and distant. “Perhaps when a sign says Please Use Other Door you should listen.”

I swiveled around to launch a retort. Her mug, half-drank, sat at the edge of the table. She was gone. All that was left for me to do was to live the new life I had been given. And wait.